Black Boys

Whenever an issue about race or race relations seizes the news, Ray Winbush is on the media's short list. Over the past few months, the Morgan State University professor has appeared on Oprah Winfrey's show to discuss race with the cast of the film Crash. He's discussed whether African-Americans should receive reparations from the American government for the crimes of slavery. He's talked about DNA testing to trace genetic heritage and about the challenges faced by black athletes such as NBA player Carmelo Anthony who try to "play to corporate America" while also "keeping it real."

I would like to write my sons a love letter about peace and post-racial living, of a wonderful time when all people move freely, of a place where black bodies are not endangered and black life is not criminalized. But that is not my story, and it is not their reality. As much as I try, I cannot hide my frustration about what happened to Michael Brown in Ferguson, Mo., my disgust over what happened to Eric Garner in Staten Island, N.Y., my outrage over what happened to John Crawford III in Ohio, and my horror over what happened to Ezell Ford in Los Angeles, Calif.

State Del. Elijah E. Cummings, most likely the next U.S. congressman from the 7th District, took the podium last Wednesday to talk before a group assembled at the Laurence G. Paquin School. But he wasn't there seeking votes.He had come to talk about adoption -- adopting black boys, specifically, who are in foster care the longest and are the hardest to place, according to state Secretary of Human Resources Alvin C. Collins. Cummings had come to talk of the need for adoption and used a boyhood friend named Gerald as a parable.

I strongly disagree with your account on Ben Jealous' legacy as NAACP president, as well as with your reporter's poll of "civil rights leaders" called to vouch for the pick of Cornell William Brooks as Mr. Jealous' successor ( "Attorney Cornell Brooks to Lead NAACP," May 18). Mr. Jealous often embarrassed the NAACP; for example, in contravention of long standing NAACP policy, he backed deliberately separate, homogeneous homerooms for black boys and black girls at an otherwise integrated public high school in Pennsylvania.

An open letter to our 12-year-old son: When you were a little boy, whenever you started crying, we would put you in your car seat and take you for a drive through downtown Baltimore. We would play Sweet Honey in the Rock and sing out loud until you started moving your head, clapping your hands, and singing along. You grew up on folk music and freedom songs, and though you did not understand them, we had always hoped that the meaning of the words would someday make sense. We vowed, as all parents do, to protect you and to do all that we could to make the world a better and safer place, where you could grow up and be free.

Robert D. Hubbard looked into the faces of the 30 black boys gathered in the library at Aberdeen Middle School and delivered his message."As young black men, you have to be one step above your competition; you have to be prepared," he told the boys, ages 10 to 14. "If you are not, life will eat you up."In jeans and sneakers, like most of his audience, Mr. Hubbard pointed to other men in the room."We are here to help you be successful, to give you the skills you need," said Mr. Hubbard, who came to the school with the other men yesterday as part of a new program designed to help young blacks succeed.

The frustration, concern and good intentions that impelled Milwaukee educators to try a new kind of segregation for black schoolboys is understandable, but their final solution is not. Noting that many inner-city youth lack fathers at home and that some succumb to the lure of street gangs, Milwaukee's educators think the answer is to segregate the boys in "African American Immersion" schools keyed to a black male perspective. That seems like less of an answer than an exercise in isolation.

At Robert W. Coleman Elementary School in West Baltimore, five third-grade boys learn a thing or two about being men two evenings a week -- in their ballet class.Likewise, a group of Coleman first-graders learn about community service by giving monthly food donations to a local shelter for the homeless. The students also visit the center regularly to help serve meals.Those are but two of the changes brought to the school by Project 2000, a program that brings men into schools as volunteer teaching assistants.

Samuel Booker is a promising tennis player, and like his favorite player, Boris Becker, he wants to play professional tennis."I'm trying to get ranking in the state," said Samuel, 16, the county's No. 1 ranked player. "My best shots are my forehand and volleys."Samuel just may get the opportunity to fulfill his dream thanks to Martell Perry, a man who noticed Samuel's skills and talents and is trying to get him a college scholarship."I hope so," the Howard High School junior said of the possibility.

By Robert Hilson Jr. and Robert Hilson Jr.,Staff Writer | March 11, 1992

The black community should focus on producing goods and not consumerism, one man said. Another said that before black males are taught entrepreneurial skills, they should be taught basic business skills.But first of all, another man said, black men must teach black boys how to become men, and then the business skills will be learned more easily.An array of opinions on black male unemployment and the lack of black males in entrepreneurial positions were voiced yesterday during a public forum on black male employment at the City Temple of Baltimore Baptist Church at Eutaw and Dolphin streets.

Some of the most esteemed Baltimoreans attended or graduated from Baltimore City high schools: Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall and U.S. Congressman Parren Mitchell (Douglass), Wall Street financier Reginald Lewis (Dunbar), and writer Ta-Nehisi Coates (Poly). These revered men remind us of a yesteryear when black males, in particular, had opportunities to thrive and succeed while attending city schools. But that Baltimore of old is very different from the one many black males experience today.

Oh, my Lord, where to begin? You already know what this column is about. You know even though we are barely three sentences in. You knew before you saw the headline. There are days in the opinion business when one story makes itself inevitable and unavoidable, one story sucks up all the air in the room. This is one of those times. One story. Well ... two, actually: the misadventures of Cliven Bundy and Donald Sterling. Mr. Bundy, of course, is the Nevada rancher whose refusal to pay fees to allow his cattle to graze on public land made him a cause celebre on the political right.

"I don't want to survive, I want to live. " These powerful words spoken by the character of Solomon Northup in the Oscar winning movie "12 Years A Slave" echoed in my mind as I sat in the East Room of the White House this winter and heard President Barack Obama unveil the promise of what the My Brother's Keeper initiative can do for boys and young men of color: provide the opportunity to thrive, not just survive. Never in our history has our government taken such an affirming action to specifically lift up boys of color - in particular black boys, who bear the burden of a long history of slavery, Jim Crow laws and acts of violence committed upon black men, women and children.

Breaking with his past reluctance to tailor policies to specific racial groups, President Barack Obama on Thursday launched a federal program aimed at improving the economic and educational status of young black and Hispanic men. The initiative, which does not require congressional approval, would direct $200 million in foundation money toward programs intended to close the racial achievement gap in schools and reduce the disproportionate unemployment...

Not wanting to trivialize the sentiment in Kaye Wise Whitehead's recent commentary ( "A never ending war," Feb. 18), I feel compelled to point out that she just condemned an entire race based on the actions of a few. What she did in writing about the Michael "loud music" Dunn and George Zimmerman verdicts is generalize, stereotype, prejudge, and to a degree, profile the entire white race. She talks about keeping her boys safe from white men standing their ground. Professor Whitehead lives and work in the Baltimore area.

In the days leading up to the end of the Michael Dunn "loud music" case - in which a white Florida man shot and killed a 17-year-old black teen after getting into an argument over the boy's so-called "thug" music - I was overwhelmed with feelings of restlessness, worry, frustration and fear. They were the same feelings I had at the end of the George Zimmerman trial. The same ones I have when I think about the day when my sons will be old enough to drive or walk to the store by themselves.

"Beating the Odds: Raising Academically Successful African American Males," by Freeman A. Hrabowski III, Kenneth I. Maton and Geoffrey L. Greif. Oxford University Press. 236 pages. $24."The significance of this book," the authors write in the first chapter, "is its assertion, to the surprise of many, that thousands of young black males are succeeding." Indeed they are, in spite of those dreadful statistics about young black men that so often inundate us.One out of every three young black males is either in jail, on parole or on probation.

HE'S A kid who wears a mask.If you saw him walking toward you late at night in a dark place, you'd watch him warily and sigh in relief when he allowed you to pass unmolested. You wouldn't dream of saying a word to him.So you'd never know that he's 16 and lives in my neighborhood with both his parents or that he has a job and is on the honor roll in school. He's a good kid.A mean swaggerYou'd never know because he hides who he is behind that mask. Behind baggy pants, two or three oversize T-shirts and a bandanna.

A couple months ago, I got an email from Supreet. Supreet is in the 11th grade. He shops at Wal-Mart and plays basketball. His father came to this country from India and both are Sikhs, followers of a centuries-old faith founded in the Punjab region. Supreet wanted to tell me what it is like being a Sikh in America. He wrote about how, after 9/11, his father became "perhaps the most hated man in our small town. " He wrote about how his dad had to stop wearing the turban Sikh men use to cover their "kesh," the hair their faith forbids them to cut. He wrote about bullying and depression suffered by young Sikhs.

An open letter to our 12-year-old son: When you were a little boy, whenever you started crying, we would put you in your car seat and take you for a drive through downtown Baltimore. We would play Sweet Honey in the Rock and sing out loud until you started moving your head, clapping your hands, and singing along. You grew up on folk music and freedom songs, and though you did not understand them, we had always hoped that the meaning of the words would someday make sense. We vowed, as all parents do, to protect you and to do all that we could to make the world a better and safer place, where you could grow up and be free.